We have houseguests visiting from Austin, Texas this week. Last night, as stories were shared, the boys’ trip to Mt. Shasta was brought up. This time…they told a story I hadn’t heard before. It was one of those stories you wish you didn’t know about because the next time your husband and sons go climbing, you will remember this story. And cringe.
The guys were descending the mountain, still above the treeline, and started knocking boulders down the side to watch them go. Big, big boulders.
But then they got distracted and forgot about the bouncing boulders.
Suddenly, a voice from below yelled out in horror. An innocent climber had just noticed some big boulders heading right toward him and scrambled to get out of the way. He was not happy with my husband, sons, and son-in-law.
Does that sound like a Chevy Chase or Will Ferrell movie, or what?